Being Human -- The Story of Wolf
by Shadow Dragon
Summary: Scott Prince, Jr., has a few bad secrets in his past when he attends Hogwarts as a new third-year...
1. Default Chapter Title

  
Up until the confident age of seven, Scott Prince, Jr., was an average sort of boy. He had wild reams of energy, able to last from 7:00 in the morning to 9:00 at night without fail. His sleep was heavy, he had twinkling green eyes and blond hair, and an affable grin.  
  
But that grin began to fade after the incident. Slowly, it faded away into an emotionless mask with hard marble green eyes and a set mouth. Scott Prince would never be the same.  
  
  
"Scott! Wait up!"  
  
Scott, in a torrent of pedaling feet, raced forward on his bike. Joey, his best friend, hollered for him to wait up, but Scott's ears were closed with the excitement of the ride. The shiny blue ten speed that his father had given him for his recent birthday sped happily over leaves and dead branches and upturned roots. Joey was still stuck on his pokemon bike.  
  
"Scott! I've gotta go in! Mama wants me in early today!" Joey called to his best friend and turned his bike around. "Wanna come over?"  
  
"Nah! I'm checking out bike trails today, Joey!" Scott replied. "See you tomorrow."  
  
As Joey turned around and pedaled off, Scott turned his green gaze upwards and noted the falling darkness and the shining light of the full moon. His mother would want him in soon as well, so he started to turn around to pedal back to his house on the edge of the woods.  
  
Crack.  
  
"What was that?" Scott asked wildly, whirling around to the sound of the twig snapping. This motion cost him his balance and he landed on the forest floor with a thump, scraping his elbow a bit. "Hello?"  
  
A low rumble met his nervous call. Scott began to shake. Suddenly, something snapped and he turned and sprinted away.  
  
A terrible roar filled the air and then suddenly a gray creature shot out after him. Scott screamed and ran for his life, tears flowing down his cheeks. The creature was getting closer. He could feel its hot breath on his neck, rankly reaching his nose. Suddenly, it leapt and landed on Scott's back. Scott went down.  
  
*********************  
"Will he be okay?"  
  
Mrs. Prince stood worriedly in the waiting room, pacing back and forth in front of her husband, who was just as worriedly smoking his pipe. Scott Prince, Sr., never smoked a pipe unless he was worried. Now that their son was sitting in the emergency, blood flowing from his back and arms, they were nervous wrecks.  
  
Scott's younger sister, Adelaide (Addy for short), was asleep in her chair. Scott had been found at midnight, at the base of the tree, bleeding. It was a wonder he was not dead from blood loss. He was receiving a blood transplant, because none of the doctors knew any spells that could fix blood loss. His broken arm could be fixed easily, though, and was.  
  
"Mom? Dad?" Scott's voice, seemingly hollow, entered the room first followed by the actual boy. At three o'clock in the morning, he didn't look very awake. His wounds, however, had been closed up by spells, giving him an unharmed look. But his parents knew that the boy would never be the same. "What's going on?"  
  
"We'd better take you home, son," Mr. Prince said. "Lacy, you sign him out of the hospital. I'll get the kids to the car." He gently scooped up Addy in his right arm, and, holding Scott's hand in his left, headed for their junker car, The Boss. It was a beat up blue Volvo, but it still ran.  
  
Scott didn't know why his parents were so worried until the next month. He had been given rides to and back from school, watched almost every minute of the day, and cut off from the woods completely. For a seven-year-old, the constant attention was very stifling.  
  
It was nearly late afternoon when his father got home and took him out to their metal storage shed a couple miles away. He was carrying a bag and told Scott to get into old clothes. Scott obediently went and did so, wondering why. Then his father took him out to the shed, placed a bowl of water on the ground, some raw meat, and a metal collar. "Put this on," he instructed Scott.  
  
"Why?" Scott asked as he slipped the collar over his head. It hung off of one shoulder. Dusk was just settling.  
  
"Scott. We've got bad news. That creature that scratched you up last month was a werewolf. Your mother and I talked to the person, and he said this was best for you. I'm going to lock you in this shed and then come get you in the morning. Don't be scared. It'll be over in the morning."  
  
That night was one of the most difficult in Scott's life. Just as the moon shone full into the window, with bars over it, and hit Scott's shoulders, he felt the changes start to begin. With a sickening twist of pain, his body lurched forward and the bones started to change inside of him. His face grew out, twanging pain so loudly that he screamed. With that, he collapsed into a pained heap.  
  
And emerged a wolf.  
  
He was big. He was mean.   
  
He was hungry.  
  
He was trapped.  
  
The creature that had been Scott howled loudly and went crazy, running in circles, shrieking, biting himself. And then daybreak came.  
  
***********************  
Years flew by and once a month Scott went crazy. He slowly grew, became more and more distant from his friends. Addy, Joey, and some of the other obnoxious guys from school started calling him Wolf because his secret had been found out. He had been home-schooled after he turned eight because people tended to be afraid of him and flinched whenever he came into the room.  
  
Today was a special day for Wolf. Everybody had slowly picked up, calling him that, except for his mother, because it sounded cool and Scott had decided that he liked it. He had turned thirteen the previous week, and, to everybody's surprise, had been accepted to the best witchcraft and wizardry school in the world: Hogwarts. Of course, he'd be starting as a third year, but he was as far along magically advanced as the rest of them, so he wasn't worried about that aspect.  
  
Addy, young and bold, redheaded, thin, and green-eyed, stood next to him, arms crossed. "How come he gets to go and I don't?" she muttered. "After all, he's a - "  
  
"Addy!" Mrs. Prince scolded before Addy could give away Wolf's secret. "We're tying to keep it as secret as possible. And he's a person, like you and me, so, unless you want to be grounded from Shiara and Temm again, you'd better start treating him like one."  
  
"Why?" Addy questioned petulantly.  
  
"Just because," Wolf replied, looking around the muggle station nervously. He had grown up with muggles, but he had recently slipped more and more into the wizarding world when he had visited his cousin for a month. His cousin, Ray, was the only person that truly accepted his being a werewolf except for his parents.   
  
"Mom, I'm not sure I want to go," Wolf muttered, not believing his ears.  
  
"Nonsense," Mrs. Prince replied, brushing her fingers though Wolf's hair to tame it out. That was one of the problems with being a werewolf - you always had messy hair. Wolf sighed once, used to her maternal actions but embarrassed. "You go on through the barrier now. We'll follow you."  
  
Wolf, sighing, pushed his trolley through the barrier and stared at the crimson train that awaited him. Students and parents milled around.  
  
"Don't lose your toad, Neville!"  
  
"Grandma, that was years ago..."  
  
Wolf stared around in wonder. He hadn't really been close to that many people since he had become...since when he was seven, because his parents didn't want his secret getting past school. They'd moved three times since then, and the last had been in the muggle and wizardry worlds both. So Wolf had his wizard friends and his muggle friends alike.  
  
But his wizard friends had all gone to Eton and he was going to Hogwarts. With another sigh, he pushed his trolley forward and searched the row for an empty compartment. Upon finding one, he loaded his cart into it and shoved it into a corner. Then he leaned out the window to say goodbye to his parents and Addy.  
  
"I'll write," he promised, just as the train's engine started up. He glanced around, and then turned to Addy, "I promise."  
  
"Sure you will," Addy said, raising a cocky nine-year-old eyebrow at him. "You'll write lots, I'm sure of that." She sounded sarcastic. But the train started there and Wolf waved to his relatives and leaned back into his seat.   
  
"She's going nowhere in life," he muttered to himself.  
  
"I found one, Ron!"   
  
Wolf looked up as a boy with tousled black hair stuck his head in the compartment. "It looks empty!" he yelled, disappearing. Wolf, who was tall and thin by now, hadn't been seen.  
  
Another boy, Ron obviously, entered. He was taller than Wolf with flaming red hair and a rather large nose. "We're fifth years, Harry! I can't believe it!"  
  
"And prefects." Harry, the black haired boy, grinned and held out a polished badge. "They must have been crazy to let us be prefects." He turned slightly to lug another trunk into the compartment and saw Wolf. "Oh, hello. Can we sit in here?"  
  
"It's fine with me," Wolf said, wondering who these two were.  
  
"I'm Harry Potter - " the name sounded familiar " - and this is Ron Weasley." The black-haired boy introduced them. Ron nodded.  
  
"I'm Wolf," Wolf said. He stopped, then said, "My real name's Scott Prince, Jr."  
  
"That's an odd nickname," Harry said. He was about to go on, but a girl with a lot of brown hair entered the compartment, smiling. "Hey, Hermione. This here is Wolf. What house are you in, Wolf?"  
  
"I don't know yet," Wolf muttered.  
  
"Ah, first year?" Hermione asked, flopping down into one of the seats.  
  
"Actually, no, I'm going to be a third year, but I haven't gone yet, due to some problems." Wolf smiled grimly, trying to get them off the subject. To his luck, none of them pursued.  
  
"I wonder what evil dude is going to pop up and try to kill us this year," Ron remarked with a slightly sardonic look on his face. "It hasn't failed yet."  
  
"Ah, ah, ah, Sirius Black wasn't trying to kill us," Harry remarked, leaning back in his seat and lounging easily.  
  
"No, it was the bloody Dementors," Hermione cut in. Harry looked at her, a bemused expression on his face. "Last year it was - "  
  
She was stopped as the compartment door flew open. A silvery-blond boy entered, followed by two other boys, looking like goons or apes or something. "Who's the new kid?"  
  
"Wolf. What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked, rolling his eyes. He didn't bother to get up.  
  
"You know that you and I are the best at Quidditch, right?" Malfoy asked, giving Wolf a look through the slits of his eyes.   
  
"What are you getting at, Malfoy?" Ron growled.  
  
"Nothing, nothing. I want a duel, though, to see who's better."  
  
"A duel is nothing to Quidditch," Harry remarked lazily. "Besides, I already know who's better. I'm not interested, Malfoy."  
  
"I just - " Malfoy started.  
  
"I'm not interested," Harry said.  
  
"Fine, then, if that's the way you want to be," Malfoy said. "But you'll die this year, Potter. You've made it so far, Potter. But no more."  
  
Wolf watched him walk away. He got the strangest feeling he was the only one that felt Malfoy's threats were geniune.  



	2. Default Chapter Title

Scott Prince, Jr., commonly known as Wolf, sighed and leaned back in his seat, an unfinished potions essay sitting on the desk in front of him. He'd staked out the corner desk, the one closest to the fire, to do his homework, because the fire helped him study harder with its strange warmth, but tonight it was too warm and he felt half-baked. Running a hand through his rumpled blond hair, he picked up his quill and started to write again. Professor Snape had done the potion on killing those who were werewolves during the night of their wolfism on purpose, just to spite him.  
  
"Having fun?" an amused voice asked from his right elbow. Wolf looked up and grimaced at the owner of the voice, a girl dressed in combat boots, ripped jeans, and a navy blue sweatshirt that was just a tad too long for her. Despite her appearance, Ginger was one of the nicest third-year girls Hogwarts had to offer. She wasn't overly tall, but she could hardly be called short, and she was a bit too leggy. A lot of the guys had mentioned that she was too leggy to be liked.  
  
"Yeah, I'm having loads," Wolf retorted, setting his quill down. "Are you finished with yours?"  
  
Ginger whipped out a roll of parchment and, with a deft twitch of her slender fingers, unrolled it for him to read. "Not quite," she admitted with a shrug. "I really don't see the use for this potion, so I'm not hurrying to finish it."  
  
"Neither do I," Wolf muttered darkly under his breath. Putting on a fake grin, he said in an audible tone, "I'm almost done myself. I'm at the part where it can be injected with a needle."  
  
"Huh?" Ginger asked, looking at him to explain why he would use a needle for a potion.  
  
"Muggle sort of medicinal tool. You can shoot them out of contraptions called guns," Wolf explained patiently. "I'd better hurry. Dinner's in half an hour."  
  
"I'd better go then," Ginger replied, brushing a hand through her burnished copper colored hair. "I've gotta talk to Rex."  
  
The third-years, Wolf decided, had some of the weirdest names. Himself being included, there was a Rex in the Ravenclaw house, a Hunkie in the Hufflepuff house, a Wolf in the Gryffindor house, and a Slappy in the Slytherin house. Wolf, who was a brand new third-year because of his being a werewolf and not being able to attend due to the threat he caused other students, actually had a reason for his nickname, but he told nobody.  
  
He finished the essay with a flourish, scowling darkly as he added a note to Professor Snape at the bottom to please not go into deep extent about killing werewolves and that if Snape did, that he would go to Professor Dumbledore. He knew it was a rash move to threaten Snape, but himself being a werewolf, the whole subject bothered him deeply. Werewolves were people, too, even though they didn't act like it three or four nights a month.  
  
"Wolf? Wolf!" Wolf jerked his head up, realizing that dinner was starting in two minutes. The famous Harry Potter was shaking him by the shoulder. "Wolf! Are you awake?"  
  
"Yes," Wolf said sheepishly. Harry grabbed his essay and was reading the last few lines. "You don't have to do that! It's sort of, um..."   
  
Harry set the paper down and gaped at him. "You're a..." He dropped his voice. "Werewolf, aren't you?"   
  
Something like a jolt of electricity hit Wolf and he slumped back in his seat in shame, cheeks burning, hands wound deep in his hair. Slowly, reluctantly, he nodded. Cheeks bright red, he glanced upwards at Harry, who was, strangely enough, smiling back at him. "I suppose I'll have to leave now...Dumbledore said I wasn't to tell anybody about my secret," Wolf mumbled shamefully. He felt like he'd let down one of the wizarding world's greatest men.  
  
"No, no, you don't have to. I figured out on my own. I'm quite nosy," Harry said quickly. "And it's okay that you're a werewolf! Doesn't bother me a bit!"  
  
"Really?" Besides Ray and his parents, nobody, not even Wolf's childhood friend Joey, had accepted him. To have one of the wizarding world's most famous and liked people accept him for what he was, the freak that he had been since that fateful bike ride six years ago, was astounding. Wolf nearly cried, but held onto his pride by a shred and grinned lukewarmly.  
  
"Yes, really. In fact, I do know Hermione would have a million questions for you. She's quite interested in that stuff. But we'll deal with that later. Let's go eat dinner."  
  
***************  
The first morning of Christmas break dawned coldly enough for Wolf, watching out the window of the Shrieking Shack a full three minutes after the moon had disappeared. Shivering, he climbed up to the attic and threw on the cloak he had put in a plastic bag to hide his smell. The Hogwarts Express tootled brightly in the distance, painfully reminding Wolf that he wouldn't be going home. Addy and his parents were going to visit Uncle Herb, who didn't like Wolf because of his being a werewolf.  
  
Across the lake that had become a steely mass of grey water, Wolf saw three cloaked figures flinging weapons compacted of snow at each other and grinned. Harry Potter and his friends had stayed for almost every Christmas break and a snowball fight was a tradition with them. Wolf didn't want to join in on that tradition yet; he felt as if he were breaking on something sacred.  
  
"I thought I'd find you here," said a voice behind him. Wolf whirled to see a tall, worn-out man with shaggy silver-streaked brown hair. "This used to be my least-favorite place in the world."   
  
"I'm not too fond of it either," Wolf remarked. He held out a hand. "I'm Wolf Prince. My real name's Scott."  
  
"Remus Lupin. Harry Potter asked me to come talk to you."  
  
The man pulled two bottles of butterbeer out of his briefcase and handed one to Wolf. "I always found this drink comforting after I transformed." He noticed Wolf's gaping look and gave him a bemused smile in return. "Yes, I'm a werewolf, too. The reason that there was a Whomping Willow already in place when you got there is me."  
  
"You're like me?" Wolf asked. He'd never really met another werewolf and had often wondered if his quiet hard look was normal. But Lupin seemed relaxed and was even smiling, something Wolf never did unless he was talking to Ginger.  
  
"Yes. I'm also part of the Werewolf League. Come, come, did you think you were an island unto yourself? Hardly! I'm supposed to take you to meet some people today. You ready?"  
  
"Floo powder?" Wolf asked nervously.  
  
"Of course. We'd freeze on broomsticks on mornings like this and you can't apparate yet, so we're going the classy way." Lupin threw some Floo powder onto the fireplace and stepped in. "Werewolf Hall!" he cried and disappeared as the flames shot up around him.  
  
Wolf joined him a couple of minutes later, shaking snow and ash out of his hair. "Sorry, wrong fireplace," he explained. Lupin nodded and gestured from Wolf to follow him down a blue-carpeted hallway. "Where are we going?"  
  
"To the meeting room. You may think you're an outcast, a freak, but trust me... you're not. Come this way. You'll want to meet Larry, my boss."  
  
Wolf followed the strange man he had just met down the hallway, wondering just what the future held for him at the Werewolf Hall and not in the least bit afraid.  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: Okay, not many of these characters are mine. Most of them, plus a lot of the setting, belong to the wonderful JK Rowling and don't you dare even think I would even dream of using her characters for making money, because I can use my own and do that!!  



	3. Default Chapter Title

  
Lupin glanced at the polished plate next to the door to confirm that it was indeed his destination and raised a hand to knock smartly on the door three times, just as his instructions had always been. Something made him pause and he turned to Wolf and explained, "Larry's the leader of our little organization. I'm second chair, as they like to call it."  
  
"They have an organization for werewolves?" came the awed answer.  
  
"Yes, and you are now an esteemed part of it!" Lupin jumped slightly as he heard the rough, deep voice of Larry on the other side of the door. "For goodness sakes, Remus, let the kid in!"  
  
Wolf and Remus entered the room, Wolf looking around curiously. Larry, sitting in his office and frowning down at paperwork, looked up and beamed at the two of them. "Are you Scott?" he asked.  
  
Wolf, aka Scott, nodded nervously.  
  
"Good! Good!" Larry set his ballpoint pen down and gave Wolf a scrutinizing look. "Awfully thin, but most of us are anyway. We'll feed you up good, if Hogwarts can't! I can't believe we managed to get a hold of you! Welcome to the organization, kid!"  
  
"Th-thanks," Wolf managed to stutter. He gave Lupin a nervous glance, but pressed his lips together, clasped his hands, and said in a somewhat calmer voice, "I'm pleased to meet you. If you could, call me Wolf. It's a nickname that's more like my name than anything I'll ever remember."  
  
Larry, with his thick shroud of black hair and beady black eyes, nodded and scratched something down on his pad of paper. "Mr. Potter sent Lupin a letter about you a month ago and Lupin contacted me. We agree that you would be perfect for our future plans. Your family left for Russia a week ago, correct?" He nodded slightly as Wolf affirmed that. "We took the liberty of gaining a warrant and searching your house. It was just as we feared."  
  
"What?" Wolf asked, nervousness shooting his belly.  
  
Larry set a book in front of the boy, recoiling from it instantly. "In his day, the Minister of Magic wrote one book."   
  
"Monster Troubles?" Wolf asked dubiously, picking up the book. He didn't believe he'd ever seen Addy or his father reading this book before. Then it hit him. "My father brought this? I suppose it was to deal with me?"  
  
"Yes. That's always what this book is for. If you'll turn to page 134, you'll see what I'm talking about." Larry glared at the book.  
  
Wolf skimmed across the page, his green eyes growing harder and harder with every word. "My father actually believed this...this junk...about me?" Wolf asked, his voice no more than a whisper. He felt betrayed. "He always used to make me wear a metal collar when I...when I transformed and I thought the meat was just for show, because it was dead, but I can't believe he would believe this...I hated that collar...Why would he believe some junk like this?"  
  
"Most people do, Wolf. Which is why we formed this organization. We've managed to get several books published about how werewolves aren't the stereotype everybody sees them as, but so far our struggles have been...fruitless." Lupin laid a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder, glancing at Larry almost admonishingly. This wasn't news to give to any child at all. The news that Wolf's father had thought he was a monster, that he was the lowest creature on the planet, had landed a heavy blow to Wolf's self-confidence, which was pretty much shattered to begin with.  
  
"First Addy and Joey, then all my friends, then my father?" Wolf's voice held hurt and betrayal. Suddenly, he straightened and the betrayal was lost in a swirl of the hard mask that covered Wolf's pointed, thin face. "What is it you want me to do?"  
  
"We, the council, meet every morning after we become human again. You will be supplied with a Wolfsbane potion. What I want to do, Wolf, is give Minister Fudge a political blow that not even Lucius Malfoy will be able to counter. And I plan to have your help. Can I plan that?"  
  
Wolf stared at the painful book in his hands, shook his head to clear it, looked Larry in the eye and said, "I'll do whatever I can to find a cure to this curse - ignorance." He shut the book and set it on the desk in front of Larry so the man could see that his nails had dug trenches in the cover from his attempts of hiding his anger, hurt, and betrayed feelings.  
  
***************  
Lupin returned with Wolf to the Shrieking Shack and the two of them walked to the castle in silence until Wolf asked, "Why do people actually believe things like that about us? That we'll never be completely human at all?"  
  
"Scott, you've got to understand that a lot of people live with ignorance because they don't know any better. I can think of a perfect example - Professor Lockhart. According to some of my former students, the professor was full of himself and incompetent at his teaching job. Some people grow up with people like that and...well, it rubs off onto them and that spreads around like a wildfire. Plus a lot of people are in for adventure. It's not adventurous to believe that werewolves are human, too."  
  
While the man spoke, Wolf could see some of the polish that he was working to keep on his features give way to a tired, haggard appearance, especially when the former professor mentioned how people could become ignoring of matters around them on purpose. He, like Wolf, looked underfed and frail, his tattered robes a bit too big for him.  
  
"My best friend abandoned me when he found out about my secret. He found out and suddenly started calling me all these names at school, setting me up a very bad reputation, getting all the other boys to help me, too. I don't think that's ignorance. I think that's..."  
  
"It's a different form of ignorance, that's what it is," Lupin said just as they reached the Entrance Hall doors. Wolf held them open while both of them shook off snow. "It's called prejudiced. Your friend may not have dealt with werewolves before and didn't know what to think. His parents might have set it that he wasn't to like to go near werewolves, so he started being mean to you as a reflex of obeying his parents."  
  
"It's still stupid," Wolf muttered under his breath.  
  
Lupin heard him. "Yes, I agree. It's very stupid. But that's life. Come on. If I'm not mistaken, Hogwarts has the best French Toast they have to offer! Let's hurry before it's all gone!"  
  
******************  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all sitting on the end of the table the teachers normally sat at. Since there were no other students there except for a Ravenclaw sixth-year and a Hufflepuff fourth-year, and only a few teachers, all of the students were allowed to sit at the teachers' table. Wolf slid into the spot next to Harry, who was eating and thinking to himself. Ron and Hermione were discussing something in transfiguration, but they stopped immediately when Wolf sat down. Lupin went over to talk to Dumbledore.  
  
Somehow Lupin had been right. French Toast was piled high on every platter. Wolf helped himself to four slices, feeling ravenous after discussing some of his past experiences with being a werewolf with Larry.   
  
"Hermione, it took Moony, Padfoot, Prongs, and Wormtail," Ron sneered the last name, "three years to get it right! It shouldn't take us only two months!"  
  
"I've discovered their notes, see!" Hermione thrust a yellowed sheet of parchment under Ron's nose. "These directions should help us do it a lot more quickly. They spent most of those three years piecing together information from different books about being," and she dropped her voice, "Animagi." Raising her voice to a normal level, she turned to Wolf. "Good morning! You missed the traditional snowball fight!"  
  
"He was with me," Lupin said, sitting down next to Wolf, a full platter of French toast in his hand.  
  
"Lupin!" Harry said, drawing himself from the enveloping cloud of his thoughts. "When did you get here?"  
  
"I was traveling in my wolf form, so about six this morning," Lupin said, managing a tired grin. "I wanted to talk to Scott here."  
  
"Oh, okay," Ron said. He took a bite and chewed on that before saying, "So, Professor, what have you been up to this past year and a half?"  
  
"Odds and ends, here and there," Lupin said, dodging around the question. "I've been employed, but the work is very hush-hush, so I can't tell you." When Ron's face fell, he added, "But you'll be the first to know when I can tell you!"  
  
"I take it Ginger didn't stay for Christmas break?" Hermione asked Wolf between bites of French toast. Wolf shook his head tightly. She stopped eating and rolled up the parchment she and Ron had been hunched over. When Wolf sent her a questioning look, she said, "It's kinda secret. I can't tell you...yet."  
  
Lupin saw the parchment and nearly went white. "How did you get that?" he asked, his voice hollow. "How?"  
  
"I found it stuffed in a transfiguration book. I think it's James's handwriting, because it's so much like Harry's," Hermione said, shoving the parchment at Lupin who unrolled it with shaking hands. Wolf read over his shoulder, but all he caught was the word "Animagi".  
  
"Why are you doing a report on Animagi?" Wolf asked curiously. Professor McGonagall, he knew, had the ability to transform into a cat. The spell, she had said, took years to research and was pretty complicated. Why Hermione would want to do a report on them was a mystery to him.  
  
Hermione shrugged. "We'll tell you later over a game of chess. Syrup?"  
  
******************  
"Check," Ron was saying to Harry as Wolf entered the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry frowned down at the chess pieces, who were shouting different pieces of advice at him and moved his king one square over. "Stupid move, there, buddy. Check again."  
  
"I think you won," Harry groaned, leaning back and running his hands through his hair in defeat. "But what else? You always win."  
  
"Hey, it takes quite an extraordinary chess player to beat McGonagall's set," Ron said, grinning smugly at Harry. When Harry punched him in the shoulder, he said, "Naw, man, I'm just kidding!"  
  
"You'd better be," Harry joked. He glanced up and saw Wolf, who was standing calmly in the background. "Hey! Is Lupin gone?"  
  
"Yeah, he left by way of the Library's fireplace. He's got some business to do up at the headquarters. Says he needs to set up an office for me or something like that."  
  
"You're thirteen and you already have an office?" Harry asked as he dealt out cards that he'd bought at Hogsmeade. "You know, if I didn't know it was you personally, I'd find that pretty scary."   
  
"What's wrong with Wolf?" Ron asked, giving Harry a lift of his left eyebrow.   
  
"No, there's not a thing wrong with him at all! He's so mature, you know, that it's almost astounding," Harry said, finishing up the dealing and picking up his stack of cards. He grinned maliciously at Ron, who pretended to cower.   
  
"Yeah, that's an affect of not having any friends," Wolf said. "You guys are the first friends I've had since I was seven!"  
  
"So, did Hermione tell you about our goal of becoming Animagi?" Harry asked blithely, setting two cards down and replacing them from the deck. He grimaced slightly for show, but sent Ron another look. Ron returned it quickly.  
  
"Yeah, she mentioned it, I think. I just have one question. Who are Moony, Padfoot, Prongs, and Wormtail?"   
  
Ron and Harry exchanged glances. "I think we have something to show you," Harry finally said.  
  
******************  
Deep down in his lair, oh so many levels below Hogwarts, the dark figure toiled. He had his spies in place and this new spy showed a lot of promise. Spies followed him blindly, doing as he wished and such. He had the whole network in the palm of his hand to build or destroy.   
  
And he liked it.  



	4. Default Chapter Title

  
Wolf stared at the parchment, yellowing slightly at the edges, that Harry thrust at him. "What's this?" he asked, staring at the blank parchment in a bewildered state of puzzlement. "Do you want me to take notes or something?" He reached for the quill and ink-bottle in the small pouch he carried at his side, but Harry grabbed his arm to stop him. "What?"  
  
"This is not any piece of parchment!" Harry said, adopting an indignant pose. "This, my friend, is your inheritance. You will then pass it on to another third-year in your fifth-year. George and Fred Weasely, you know them, right? Ron's mischievous brothers! They passed us this map in their fifth year and we're passing it to you to memorize."  
  
"Um, Harry? This isn't a map," Wolf said, pointing at the blank parchment. "This is an empty sheet of parchment."  
  
"Ah, but you'll see," Ron remarked. He snatched the map and tapped it with his wand. Rolling his eyes to the ceiling in a somber fashion, he stated in a clear and pompous voice, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."  
  
"Messrs Moony, Padfoot, Wormtail, and Prongs proudly present The Marauder's Map?" Wolf read out loud. Harry and Ron slapped their hands over his mouth to keep him quiet.   
  
"People can hear you, you know!" Harry hissed. "You know, Ron, I think we were worried that we couldn't pass on George's and Fred's tradition. None of the third-years - "  
  
"Except Ginger."  
  
" - Really stood up to the standards," Harry finished as they let Wolf go. Wolf grabbed the map out of Ron's hands and scanned over it. "You'll like this map, Wolf. See? Look, Snape's boiling what looks to be a deflating draught in the dungeons. The first-years must be studying that stuff." Harry's finger tapped a section of Hogwarts on the map where dungeons had been drawn and a little Snape was patiently brewing a potion.   
  
Potions class was one of Wolf's most boring subjects because he already knew the material. When he had been younger, he had spent hours with his nose in books, learning the different ingredients of several different potions. He knew how to do a rudimentary Wolfsbane potion, but he hadn't the right materials for his transformations, so it was generally worthless knowledge.  
  
"Oh, I forgot!" Ron said, slapping his forehead. "To clear this thing so a teacher doesn't find out, you say 'Mischief managed' and tuck it in your robes. The funniest things happen if you try to break into the map. Watch." He set the map down on the desk in front of him and tapped it once. "Reveal yourself!"  
  
Mr. Prongs sends his greetings and remarks that you have dirt on your nose.  
  
Mr. Padfoot also sends his greetings and wonders what time dinner will be served. And that you should try the actual words instead of lousy charms.  
  
Mr. Moony sends his highest greetings, but would also like to remark that you have an abnormally large nose and should not stick it in our business.  
  
Mr. Wormtail would like to send his greetings as well. Mind your own business, you dirty rat!  
  
"How insulting," Ron muttered. He grinned and brightened suddenly and handed the map to Wolf. "You try."  
  
Wolf repeated Ron's procedure and watched in amazement as new words scrolled across the parchment.  
  
Mr. Prongs sends his greetings (again) and would like to ask, "Haven't we just been though this?"  
  
Mr. Padfoot wants to know why we are doing this again, as well. You really should learn the first time. Repetitiveness really does NOT work, as they tried to teach us.  
  
Mr. Moony wonders about you. How long has it been since your accident? Greetings to all readers and do tolerate crankiness. The paper ripped in the left corner.  
  
Mr. Wormtail remarks that you really need to brush your hair, filthy Wolf!  
  
"This Wormtail guy isn't the nicest in the world, is he?" Wolf asked, watching as the ink faded to nothingness. He rolled the parchment up and put it gently into his pouch, awaiting an answer.  
  
"Terrible guy. Met him a couple years back. He's now working as a servant for Voldemort. Betrayed Harry's parents, which led to them being killed. Prongs was Harry's father. Moony was Lupin. Wormtail was a man named Peter Pettigrew. And Padfoot is Sirius Black." Ron's eyes didn't focus on anybody in the empty classroom as he informed Wolf of all the past events.  
  
The door swung open and Hermione charged in. "Where's the map?" she panted, breathless. She held the notes that Wolf had seen earlier. "These are false! They were meant to deceive Snape all those years ago!"  
  
Wolf extracted the Marauder's Map and passed it to Hermione. Hermione took it and said, "We solemnly swear that we wish to become Animagni."  
  
Everybody in the room gaped at the Marauder's Map as it scrolled down through pages of notes, diagrams and drawings. "Whoa," Ron whispered. "Not even Fred or George knew it could do that!"  
  
"They never bothered to ask, did they?" Hermione muttered, picking up the thick parchment, which was now rolled, and patting it gently. "We now have the key."  
  
"How did you know?" Harry asked, amazed.  
  
Hermione dropped the notes that the four mischief-makers had written onto a table and stabbed a line of thin writing with her index finger.  
  
Ha, ha, Snape! You've gotta be kidding! Us, Animagni? Me? I couldn't figure it out. Only the Marauders can tell you that!  
  
"That's Lupin's writing," Harry remarked. "He's not lying. He never did figure out how to become an Animagnus! He was a werewolf, which meant that he didn't have to!" He rubbed a hand through his hair and grinned. "Purely genius, Hermione!"  
  
Hermione looked flattered.  
  
*******************  
"Anybody up for a game of exploding snap?" Harry asked, yawning as he entered the Common Room. It was about three o'clock in the afternoon, but a heavy snowstorm was keeping the area dark and all the torches were burning brightly.  
  
"Sure," Wolf said, looking up from where he was perched over an ink-blotted sheet of parchment. Before the storm, a large barn owl had swooped in and dropped a large roll of parchment onto Wolf's head. He'd opened it to discover the recipe to a Wolfsbane potion and a map of the area in case he needed to travel. "I'm just trying to figure out some equations here. I've been struck by an idea, but I'm not sure exactly what it is yet."  
  
"I can't right now. I'm finishing these plans. You might be interested in reading over these quidditch plans," Ron said, slapping the stack he was hunched over with the back of his left hand. He didn't bother to look up.  
  
Hermione didn't say anything from where she was curled up in a cozy chair with The Marauder's Map. Harry shrugged at Wolf and went over to talk to Ron about the quidditch plans.  
  
"Ah-ha! Look at this!" Wolf's triumphant shout was unexpected and even Hermione jumped. "Take a look at this, will ya?"  
  
"What?" Hermione asked, looking peevish.  
  
"I think I may have found a big development in the history of werewolves everywhere." Wolf grinned broadly and showed his friends his notes.  
  
*******************  
The dark figure paced restlessly in front of the fireplace. Turning slightly, he felt the warmth cloud over his face, dapple across his front, warm down even to his thighs. He was robed in a sinister, hooded monk's robe, which contradicted with his nature. He was definitely not a monk.   
  
"Call in Peter, will you?" he growled to the guards waiting patiently by the doorway. One nodded, shutting his eyes, and gestured sharply for the other to fetch the small, pudgy man.   
  
"Master?" came a timid call a few moments later. The balding man flung himself at his master's feet, nearly blubbering in fear.  
  
"Stop blubbering, you fool! I've got a mission for you, that's all, you coward! You're to go to Hogwarts and find all that you can about this new prospect, get me? Larry must have some use of him!"  
  
"H-Hogwarts, sir?" blubbered the squat man.  
  
"Yes, Hogwarts! Now get moving!"  
  
********************  
"Why didn't somebody figure this out before you did? I mean, no offense, but you're thirteen? There are trained professionals in this area!" Ron said dubiously, looking at Wolf's scrawled notes as they crowded around.  
  
"Not really. Werewolves are overlooked. The Wolfsbane Potion was only created three years ago and hasn't really been messed with since. The guy that created it was murdered shortly afterwards and his best friend circulated the potion around. Invisibility spells are not common, therefore this information could be slipped over easily."  
  
"Interesting point," Harry muttered.  
  
"I've looked this over and there's only two conditions under which my potion could work. If it is injected with a needle into the victim within 48 hours of the bite or scratch and if the victim is, unfortunately, a muggle." Wolf's face as he said this was hard.  
  
"You realize what you've done here, Wolf? You've created hope for those people who have no idea what's going on around them!" Harry was amazed.  
  
They were interrupted by a loud crash from the fireplace. Ginger herself rolled out, covered in soot and coughing. "Rough landing there," she explained between fits of coughing. "I missed the 'Express, so I had to travel by way of Floo powder. Dumbledore wasn't thrilled when I landed in his fireplace. I had to switch landings."  
  
Wolf was hastily rolling up his paperwork. Sending Harry a look of pleas to distract Ginger, he half fled with the notes to his dormitory room and dumped them on his four-poster bed before returning to the Common Room.  
  
"What's your favorite animal, Ron?" Hermione was asking in a blithe tone when Wolf emerged from his dormitory.   
  
"I'm rather fond of the hawk myself," Ron said, dusting an imaginary fleck off of his shoulder. "What about you, Harry?"  
  
"My father always liked the stag. I think I might, too. After all, it's protected me before. And you, Hermione?"  
  
"I don't have a favorite," Hermione muttered. Crookshanks hopped onto her lap and butted his head imperiously in her face, ginger fur spreading across the front of her robes. "Thank you, Crook."  
  
They all heard the portrait swing open and the sound of a lot of voices and exchanged looks as they scurried around to grab notes that they'd left lying out. Grabbing the unrolled parchment in messy bundles, they transported them to the trunks and breathed in relief. Seamus Finnigan, a fifth-year boy that shared a room with Ron and Harry, burst into the room, laughing at a joke Dean Thomas had told him.  
  
Ginger, sitting next to Wolf and staring at the fire, mumbled an excuse to see her boyfriend Ian. She left the room, Wolf watching thoughtlessly. "Wolf!" Hermione's fingers snapped in his face. "Wake up! Ron, Harry, and I have decided to go for a butterbeer and discuss some plans. Wanna come?"  
  
"Sure," Wolf said, and hurried to get his cloak.  



	5. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: All of these characters are the wonderful creations of JK Rowling. They aren't mine and I'm not using them for money.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Finals were two months away. Wolf, hunched over his fifth-year potions book, scowled down at the scribbled notes he had written. Snape had grudgingly moved him up to fifth-year potions after he had discovered what was now called The Muggle-Werewolf draught for lack of a more creative name. The class was a tad harder but Wolf hadn't had any trouble catching up and surpassing the class. Hermione Granger was really his only contestant in that class.  
  
Draco Malfoy had walked up to Wolf the instant he had stepped through the door. "Hey, aren't you a third-year? What are you, lost? This is a fifth-year class."  
  
"Nope. He's in this class from now on, Malfoy. Smart enough to do him some credit," Harry said proudly, coming up behind the silent Wolf. "C'mon, Wolf. You can partner me. We're working on the Confundus Concoction today."  
  
Wolf followed Harry to the cauldron that was already filled with essence of newt water. "We're supposed to wait until it boils," Harry muttered, sheepishly staring at the cauldron.   
  
"Why don't you do this?" Wolf asked, tapping the rim of the cauldron with his wand. A few seconds later, the water started to burble. Harry gaped at him in amazement. "It's an easy enough spell."  
  
"The sixth-years learn it next year," Hermione remarked from where she and Ron were working on a cauldron. Behind them, Neville and Goyle's cauldron exploded. Ron sniggered evilly.  
  
"LONGBOTTOM!" Snape roared.  
  
"Malfoy did it," Wolf muttered to Harry, who grinned and nodded.   
  
Malfoy heard Wolf. He glared at him for a moment, then gave the boy the cold shoulder. Wolf sniggered for a moment before he returned to help Harry load the contents of the table into the cauldron.  
  
That had been just after Christmas break, Wolf reflected silently. Since then, Malfoy had pinned Wolf in so many terrible situations, pitting Crabbe or Goyle on him, setting off complicated spells that wove embarrassing patterns across Wolf's skin, etc., and Wolf was sick of the older boy.   
  
"Wolf! We're going to Three Broomsticks now!" Harry said, catching Wolf's attention with a snap of his fingers. "Are you coming? You said you would tonight!"  
  
"Um, sure, I guess. Is Ginger going this time?"  
  
"Yeah. Find her and meet us at the witch in ten minutes," Harry said, checking his watch. He was incredibly proud of the odd little watch. His godfather, Sirius Black, had sent it to him for his fifteenth birthday. It was an odd little watch, but Harry loved it.  
  
Ginger was studying for an exam in Transfigurations in the library when Wolf walked in, looking around for Madam Pince, the librarian. After he was sure that Madam Pince was out of the area, he checked for Ian. Ian had made it quite clear that Wolf was to stay away from Ginger, that Ginger was his, not Wolf's. Ginger had no idea that her boyfriend was threatening her best friend.  
  
"Hey, Gin," Wolf said, dropping into the seat next to her. "Where's Ian?"   
  
Ginger shrugged and looked very exasperated at being interrupted. "Is this important?" she asked bluntly, obviously not in the mood for the banter she and Wolf often shared.  
  
"No, but I was wondering if going to the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade would cheer you up," Wolf said, glancing at her Transfigurations work. Being Ginger doing the work, it wasn't less than three days until the exam.   
  
"Three broomsticks? Wolf, next weekend's a Hogsmeade weekend," Ginger said tiredly, brushing away an errant strand of ginger colored hair, something she was named for. "Have you lost your sanity, too?"   
  
"Who else has lost their insanity?" Wolf asked, sliding down to sit beside her.  
  
She blew another errant strand of hair upwards so that it stayed out of her face. "Ian," she finally said. "He's being a total psycho lately! I'm not even allowed to glance at another guy! He explodes!"  
  
"Explodes?" Wolf asked, glancing around apprehensively. When Ginger gave him her "I'm not going anywhere, buddy" look, Wolf made up his mind. "You're coming with me! C'mon!" Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her along behind him, startling her with his unexpected action.   
  
Madam Pince gave them a sour look, but Wolf ignored her as he pulled Ginger out of the library. "Wolf?" she asked in an unsteady voice. "What are you doing?"  
  
"We're going to have a drink at the Three Broomsticks. Is that too much to ask of my best friend? Come on!" Wolf pulled her to where Ron, Hermione, and Harry were waiting, dropping her arm before they rounded the corner.   
  
Harry and Ron seemed to be deep in discussion when Ginger and Wolf trotted up to join the troupe, but Hermione was willing to talk to them. "We've run into some trouble. Somebody knows about these secret passages, but we don't know whom. We've decided that the Three Broomsticks isn't secret enough for us to meet there - after all, the teachers go there all the time anyway and we don't want anybody blabbing on us. So we're going to eat at The Ghoul Café."  
  
"The Ghoul Café?" Ginger asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.  
  
"Yes. They have quite excellent cuisine there," Harry said, mocking a French accent. Wolf, who had lived in France for a few months with Ray, rolled his eyes. "What?"  
  
"Just don't quit your day job," was all Wolf said. He whipped out his want and tapped the hump on the back of the witch. "Dissendium," he whispered. The hump opened. "Ladies first."  
  
"Follow me," Hermione instructed the awe-struck Ginger. Ginger nodded mutely and followed the older girl into the passage. Shrugging, Ron followed them, followed by Harry, and then Wolf.  
  
~~~~  
The blond-haired boy that entered the Three Broomsticks screamed trouble in his very haughty gate. Rosemerta, their head waitress, was taking a break for the night, so fifteen-year-old Juan Resbold directed him to a seat where his partner in business was waiting and took his order. Juan, shuddering at the evil the blond boy radiated, went back into the kitchen to deal with the orders.  
  
"Why'd you request my presence here?" the blond boy, a snobby, obnoxious boy named Draco Malfoy asked the black-haired young man across the small table.  
  
"I have some business to request of you and Hogwarts isn't the best place to request it," Ian Moon leaned forward, flicking a bit of flame from his index finger. He and Malfoy were in the same year, but Ian was in the Ravenclaw house, even though everybody sincerely agreed that he should be in Slytherin.  
  
"Business, eh? What sort of business?" Malfoy looked up as Juan brought back two tankards of foaming pumpkin fizz. He nodded slightly and then sipped slowly.  
  
"Kidnapping," Ian said, bringing out a dagger and playing with the blade. "Got a guy I need out of the way for a couple of days. Can't stand him. He's been making passes at my girlfriend and I need a couple of days to ensure that she's mine."  
  
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Who's your girlfriend?"  
  
"Ginger Bates. She's a Gryffindor third-year and she's got eyes for him. I just need him out of the way for a couple of days. You can throw him in a pit or whatever, just get him out of the way!"  
  
"Two days. How much?" Malfoy asked. Ian was well-dressed, like Draco was, so he ought to have a good deal of money on him.  
  
"Fifty galleons," Ian said slowly, laying his price down.  
  
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "One guy, two days, in a pit. Let's look at the risk factors here and the expenses. Hmm...first, I'd have to create the pit, which is not easy. That, my friend, will cost eight Galleons. Then I'd have to enchant it to protect myself and others - two Galleons. That's ten so far. Then I have to capture the boy - and he will put up a fight - which will lead to sixteen Galleons. That's twenty six Galleons."  
  
Ian couldn't believe this guy.  
  
"Let's see...to keep your name innocent for forty eight full hours...that's gonna be costly. Twenty eight Galleons. Smuggling him back in would be about seven Galleons. Cleaning up all evidence...this is gonna be a whopper...that's gonna lead to about four hundred Galleons in all."  
  
"No deal," Ian said, slamming down his fist.  
  
"No girlfriend then," Malfoy returned just as smoothly.  
  
"Three hundred! That's all I'm gonna offer," Ian said, jaw set.  
  
"Three fifty and you've got a deal," Malfoy returned smugly. He ran a confident hand through his neatly groomed hair. "And can we hurry up? I've got to meet Blaise in an hour."  
  
"Three thirty."  
  
"Three forty!"  
  
"Deal!" Ian regretted his words, but there was little he could do. Draco Malfoy was the best agent for hire in the school and he wasn't known at all to shirk his jobs. Ian dropped two sickles into Juan's waiting hand as he stormed out. Malfoy tipped Juan a little more generously, finished his tankard, and left, grinning with success.  
  
~~~~  
"I've decided that I actually like this place," Ginger said, looking around. A large mural of wizards and witches dancing spread across the left wall and there was a giant stage across the right wall. The whole restaurant was designed to look like a muggle fifties restaurant, and a ghost Frank Sinatra was singing "Lady Luck" onstage.   
  
"Yeah, it's a neat place," Wolf agreed, sipping his root-beer float. He admitted to himself that it had been too long since he'd had one of those and was enjoying the sugary treat. Ginger had just been introduced to soda and claimed that it tickled her nose.   
  
Hermione and Ron were having an animated discussion over the Marauder's Map, something Ginger knew about. Harry was swirling his spoon around in the remnants of an ice cream sundae. Ginger and Wolf were talking quietly about an assignment for charms class.  
  
"Those cheering charms he taught us last week were rather simple," Ginger remarked, frowning.  
  
"Well, charms was always your best class," Wolf said. "I didn't find them so easy. Divination is a real blow-out class, though. I don't see anything in those little crystal balls of hers."  
  
"Well, everything else you excel at. Really Wolf, I think you're the top of our class. And don't shake your head at me. You're much too modest anyhow. Take a look at yourself! You're in fifth year potions, you're virtually always a step ahead in transfiguration, and you're always correcting the teacher in DATDA! I've never seen anybody handle those cubs last month in care of magical creatures as smoothly as you did!"  
  
"Mom was a vet."  
  
"A what?" Ginger, not used to Muggle occupations, screwed her face up, trying to remember if Wolf had mentioned this before.  
  
"A veterinarian. She handles animals all the time and..." Wolf stopped, cleared his throat, and went on, "I picked up a lot from her and just watching the animals at her office."  
  
"Is that where you got your nickname from?" Ginger asked, finishing her can of Dr. Pepper.   
  
Wolf paused, not sure that he should tell her the actual reason, and sipped his root beer float. "Sorta, I guess. Addy, my younger sister, and my friend Joey started calling me that after I started visiting her office a lot. It's just sort of stuck."  
  
"Strangely enough, you remind me of a wolf," Ginger said, setting her can down.  
  
Wolf didn't answer.  
  
  



	6. Default Chapter Title

A/N: Thanks to Nemo for the suggestions on these stories. means a vision. I apologize for the length of time I took getting this posted. I've started driving recently and have several plans to keep. Thanks for sticking with it and thanks to Netshark, WolfieTwin1, Amethyst, Skyeth, Onion, etc. for reviewing.  
  
Disclaimer: Standard. No infringement on copyright intended.  
  
  
It's dark. I lean back, breathing hard. I can't see a thing, but I feel cold and wet. And I know they're coming for me. They're coming to destroy me. And they'll kill everybody I love.  
  
The faces fly past in front of me. Ron, eyes wide and scared, biting his lip, Hermione, drawn and pale, Harry, trying almost bitterly to be brave, Ginger, pale and scared...I shudder deeply, trying to break the bonds that keep me bound to the wall. Somebody is screaming out of pain beside me. And I know they are coming.  
  
Although he felt the chair beneath him and the air was warmer than it had been for years, the room held an icy chill. The vision flashed before his eyes, flickering in and out. He was in the Common Room. Ginger was in a chair nearby, curled around a book. She glanced up when Wolf's breath started to come in ragged pants and started to say something. But Wolf shot out of his chair and tore out of the room.  
  
He lay gasping for breath under the canopy of his large bed, staring straight up. His green eyes, however, saw nothing but darkness. He was fully awake, but he just wasn't paying attention to anything.  
  
"Wolf?" Harry came into the dormitory, glancing around for Wolf's roommates. "Wolf?" Wolf rolled over and climbed out through the drapes. "Oh, good. There you are. Ginger was really worried when you stormed out of the room like that. Why?"  
  
"I saw a vision that I don't want to come true." Wolf ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to straighten it out and dug through his trunk for a clean shirt and a nicer pair of jeans. All he came up with was his white "Big Dogs" (his aunt from America had sent it to him) shirt, and jeans that were pretty baggy with only a small hole in the knee. "I'm gonna go to Hogsmeade now. I've gotta pick up something at one of the shops there. I don't really want to talk to anybody right now."  
  
"Okay, I'll give you some space." Harry left, but not until he tossed Wolf a curious glance. Wolf shuddered once as a moment from the terrible vision replayed itself and pulled on the fresh shirt. Wrinkling his nose at the smell of the shirt he'd just had on, he refreshed his deodorant and changed his jeans as well. Pausing only to pull on his tattered sneakers, he wet a comb and ran it through his hair.  
  
The vision flashed briefly before his eyes as his hand touched the cool metal doorknob and he burst into a new spasm of shuddering that left him weak. But he knew the action that he needed to take. He needed to get out of Hogwarts and divert the danger from everybody. Something bad was coming and everybody was completely oblivious. With two weeks left of term, everybody was in a state of bliss and ignorance. Wolf had seen terrible things in his flash of a vision. Terrible things that revolved around him. Things that could hurt his friends. Things that could kill him.  
  
"What do I do?" he muttered to himself, backing away from the doorway and sitting on the edge of his bed. Out of habit, he pulled out the Marauder's Map.  
  
There. The Shrieking Shack. He'd pack, then slip out late at night and run to the Shrieking Shack and use floo powder from there to stay at the Werewolf Hall. Nobody would suspect it, because nobody knew about it. Not even Ginger, who knew almost everything about Wolf except for his werewolf problem.  
  
Dinner and late evening passed way too slowly for Wolf, jittery from the vision he'd received. He couldn't explain it to himself - it was dark and scary and it held a sense of foreboding fear. He knew that it would hurt Hogwarts, shatter the very foundation of the castle, and he had to get away from it. He had to draw it away from the others as well.  
  
That night, while he listened to the others slowly fall asleep around him, Wolf thought about what the vision meant. Why was he cold and wet in the vision and chained to a wall? Who could possibly want to do that to him. Suddenly, the icy name blew itself across Wolf's seething mind.  
  
Voldemort.  
  
Wolf was friends with Harry and he was part of a political mission that could change the fate of werewolves forever. He would be the perfect target for somebody like Voldemort. His palms began to sweat and he shifted restlessly before finally sitting up and glancing at his watch. He had to leave now. Moving slowly as not to wake his roommates, he pulled his bag out from under the bed, slung it gently onto his shoulder, and sneaked to the door and out into the Common Room.   
  
Once he was down the stairs from the dormitories, he pulled out the Marauder's Map, so helpful in helping the others become Animagi. Hermione was sleeping, Ron and Harry were sleeping...Ginger wasn't on her bed...Wolf glanced up sharply when he realized the minuscule figure on the map was slung across the couch. Sure enough, there was Ginger, Potions book lying on the floor beside her. "Mischief managed," he muttered to the map, tapping it once. It went blank.  
  
Wolf crept over to where Ginger was stretched serenely across the couch and picked up the blanket on the floor next to her. Pausing only to spread it over her gently, he crept to the portrait hole.   
  
"Going somewhere?"  
  
Wolf spun on his heel to see Harry, Ron, and Hermione standing at the foot of the stairs. His mind blanked. "I was, ah..."  
  
"Running away? Really, Wolf, we would have thought you'd passed that stage by now," Hermione said, with an amused grin.   
  
"It's not a phase," Wolf said. "I - ah, I mean - oh, sod it." He sighed and flopped back into a chair. "I saw a vision today. It scared me because all of you are in danger. I need to get out to the Shrieking Shack to talk to Lupin."  
  
"Lupin's staying at the Shrieking Shack?" Ron asked, looking slightly alarmed.  
  
"No, I need to use the floo powder from there. There's no fire here," Wolf said, gesturing at the ashes in the fireplace. Hermione smilingly rolled her eyes and pointed her wand at the fireplace. A fire shot up. "I forgot about that spell."  
  
"Most people do. Let's go."  
  
Wolf stopped them by standing up and shaking his head. "I must go alone. They won't let anybody but werewolves into Werewolf Hall."  
  
"No, you're not leaving yet anyway. First, you're going to explain about your vision." Another voice startled them and everybody turned to see Ginger sitting up on the couch, brushing both hands through her wavy hair to tame it out a bit. She didn't look like the sort that wanted to be compromised with.  
  
Between the four of them, the small group managed to pry the details of the vision from an unwilling Wolf, who protested at every question. When they were done, an hour had passed and everybody was starting to look worried. Wolf, being quietly sullen, sat up and said, "Can I go now?"  
  
Suddenly, all movement in the room stopped as the Portrait Hole crept open. Every head turned as a silvery blond head emerged. "Malfoy? How'd you get the password?"  
  
"Ten Galleons will get you anything. Take them all out, real quiet-like," Malfoy said to the figures behind him, swaggering confidently into the room.  
  
"I'll call McGonagall," Hermione warned. The figures paused. "I swear I will!"  
  
"If you want your friend to live, you won't." Malfoy turned and clapped his hands twice and Crabbe and Goyle entered, dragging a bound and gagged redheaded boy between them. "I believe this to be Rex Donald, a third-year Ravenclaw and a good friend of Ms. Ginger over there."  
  
Rex widened his blue eyes at being in the Gryffindor Common Room. "What do you want with us?" Harry asked, clenching his fists. "You don't go barging into the enemy's Common Room at twelve thirty at night making senseless demands, do you?"  
  
"No, I make completely logical ones. I want Wolf. He's worth 340 Galleons." Malfoy clapped again and Goyle and Crabbe aimed towards Wolf and Harry. Both boys dove away from the taller boys and jumped catlike onto the backs of chairs. Nodding to each other, they used the instant when Crabbe and Goyle turned their backs to tackle them. Wolf "ummphed". He felt like he'd hit a brick wall.  
  
Hermione had taken this instant to whisper a spell. Crabbe and Goyle, afraid of the student wonder, back off in fear, letting Harry and Wolf fall to their knees. "Don't go out that fireplace, boy," Malfoy taunted as the group beat a hasty retreat. "They'll find out about you."  
  
"Okay, that was rather pointless," Wolf muttered, dusting himself off. "Wonder who would want me gone for that much. And find out what about me?"   
  
"Probably nobody." Hermione shrugged and picked up Ginger's Potions book. "But you might want to go to your dormitory now, Gin."  
  
"No, I'll stay out here, thank you. I really don't want to deal with...never mind." Ginger stopped suddenly, a dark look coming onto her face. She bent to untie Rex, who had started to squirm while the group was talking. Wolf leapt over the couch to help her.  
  
"Ian! He did this! He paid Malfoy to capture you, Wolf, so he could put a spell on you, Ginger! I was trying to find you two to tell you when my brother, Juan, told me!" Rex gasped as soon as they had undone the bonds that held the boy.  
  
Wolf and Ginger swapped looks. "Ian?" they both muttered, eyes wide. Ginger finished. "Why would Ian want to do that?"  
  
"I don't know! He's been possessed or something!" Rex leapt to his feet, vigorously rubbing at where the bonds had been on his ankles and wrists. With one hand, he swooped the last of his red hair out of his face. "He's been going crazy for weeks! He snapped on me a few minutes ago."  
  
"I've got to get out of here," Wolf said suddenly. He straightened and walked towards the door. Suddenly, he stopped and saw that Ginger was leaning against the portrait, not permitting him to go anywhere. "Ginger, I've got to! I don't want any of you getting hurt because of me! Just let me go!"  
  
"Go where?" Ginger challenged.  
  
Wolf hung his head and Harry, Hermione, and Ron looked uneasy. "Ginger, I can't explain right now..." Wolf mumbled.  
  
"NO! You explain or you stay here, get me?"  
  
"Ginger, I -- "  
  
"Do you get me or don't you?" Ginger asked, her eyes flashing. "Explain."  
  
"Fine." Wolf sighed, ran both hands through his hair, and glanced at Ron for support. "Ginger, I'm not normal. I'm a...I'm a werewolf." When Ginger paused, not knowing what to say, he pushed past her and crawled out of the portrait hole, unable to hide the fact that his eyes were glittering from the close proximity of tears.  
  
Nobody followed him to the Grand Hall, where he stood for a minute and pulled out the map. Ginger, Rex, Harry, and Ron were all in the Common Room still; Hermione was toying with the potion they'd recently moved to her dormitory. Wolf pulled out a flask of an invisibility potion he'd brewed and drank the bitter brew. Gagging to himself, he continued to the doors in the direction to Hagrid's hut, slowly fading from sight.  
  
The trek to the Whomping Willow was moderately short and Wolf prodded the knot with a long stick, dodging and weaving to avoid the bashing branches. He followed the tunnel numbly, knowing deep inside of him that Ginger, his best friend, thought of him as a freak. He'd kept it from her for so long and she finally knew...but Wolf didn't feel free, like he had when Harry'd found out. He felt pulled down by some unseen chains that tugged at his wrist. With a mild shock, he realized that he climbing into the Shrieking Shack. The potion was starting to wear off as he built a grand fire.  
  
"Werewolf Hall," he cried, tossing floo powder onto the fire. He stepped on and then was thrown into a roiling ride of spins and curves. He landed unsteadily in the Werewolf Hall's fireplace and stumbled to his feet. "Lupin? Where are you?"  
  
The landing room was dark and cold, despite the roaring fire that Wolf crawled out of. He looked around for a short minute then set off at a trot to Lupin's office. The hollow sound of footsteps caught his ear and he whirled. "Who's there?"  
  
Suddenly, a hand slapped over his mouth and he felt a cold metal sensation on his neck that could only mean one thing.   
  
Somebody was holding a knife at his throat.  
  



	7. Default Chapter Title

A/N: Hey! Sorry for the cliffhanger I left you with last time!! (I was feeling cruel) Thanks to all of those people who reviewed and to everybody for their input!! 

Disclaimer: Standard

  
  
  
  


Wolf felt the threateningly cool metal of the knife and would have screamed had not the hand blocking his mouth prohibited it. Instead he held quite still, eyes wide with shock, somebody's hand over his mouth and their knife at his throat. Okay, the vision had been bad, but where had a knife been in there?

  
  


"Don't move, kid, or I'll slice your head from your body, Scott," his captor threatened. A hand grabbed Wolf's wand out of his jeans pocket.

Wolf's eyes shot open; he knew who this guy was. Only one person still called him "Scott" and got away with it. "Larry?" he asked, his voice coming out as no more that a whisper. "Larry!"

  
  


His captor cursed. "You always were too much trouble to put up with, kid! Not one more sound, hear me?"

  
  


Well aware of the knife at his throat, Wolf nodded quickly. 

  
  


~~~

  
  


Larry dragged him into his office, locked the door, flung Wolf into a chair, and calmly took a seat opposite him. Wolf, pale and shaken, managed to ask, "Why are you doing this?" He glared insolently at the large, tall Werewolf League Leader. The man he had trusted to bring up the reputation of werewolves everywhere had captured him and held him at knife-point.

  
  


But when Larry turned to face Wolf, he was the not the dark, cruel man Wolf had been captured by in the hallway. Sweat covered his face with a glimmering sheen, he had run his hands through his hair, making him look like a total wreck. He walked in jerky spasms, and his eyes were wider that Wolf's hands. "Because," he said, his voice rasping.

  
  


"Why?"

  
  


"You weren't a good enough spy. I got nothing but potions to help MUGGLES from you! I wanted money, cold hard cash, as the muggles, the people you wanted to PROTECT, would call it!" Larry said, pointing his wand at the defenseless Wolf. His eyes now held a wild craze.

  
  


"Huh?" Wolf asked. "You're going to kill me because I didn't get you any money with my muggle protection potion?"

  
  


"No! I wanted you to create something to cure me! I've heard about your uncle, the great Trevor Prince, potions master. I knew you'd inherited most of his knowledge, as well as a lot of his ability! You were supposed to cure ME, not some muggle stupid enough to go walking in the woods on a moonlit night!" Larry's eyes were growing wider, blue pieces of glass burning with rage and a face twisted into a feral smile. "So, now, I fear, I shall have to kill you."

  
  


Wolf tried to get out of his seat, but Larry muttered a unintelligible word under his breath and cords snapped around Wolf's wrists, ankles, middle, and neck, binding him to a chair. Wolf let out a terrible yell, but it didn't distract Larry in the least. The ropes binding him made it hard to breathe and he started to see black nibble at the corners of his eyes. After a few seconds, he barely noticed that the wand was pointed at his face.

  
  


"I'll kill you now," Larry said in a quiet voice.

  
  


"You know, you might want to drop that wand if you know what's good for you," came a voice from behind Wolf. Larry whirled to discover both Ginger and Ron standing him, wands raised. "The spell's half done," Ginger continued. "All he has to do is say the last word and we'll knock you out until next week. From then on, it ain't gonna be peachy..."

  
  


Larry yelled something Wolf didn't catch. The room had started to spin. Wolf found his head drooping forward, but there was nothing he could do. The black was coming closer at the edges...The world went completely black...

  
  


"Harry! Turn on the lights!" The light came up again. "Holy - !"

  
  


"My guess is that the freaky guy got away," Ron said almost calmly as Harry and Hermione entered. Larry was completely gone, but Wolf was on the verge of blacking out. Ginger noticed this almost immediately and set to work on his bonds. The Swiss army knife took a little while to get through the thick bond that covered his stomach, but when the bond had broken, Wolf started to breathe again.

  
  


"What's going on?" Hermione asked as Ron pulled out a rusty pocket knife and started to help Ginger out.

  
  


"Well, that was my boss. Or he was, at least. He's been the backbone of a political campaign against several wizard laws that state that you can kill werewolves on moonlit nights. I do believe we were actually making some headway with Minister Fudge, but I'm not quite sure," Wolf said just as Ginger and Ron managed to get through the bonds that snapped across his neck. He started to breathe easier.

  
  


"Well, he looks kind of crazy."

  
  


"I think he's afraid of wolves. He actually thinks of being a werewolf as a disease," Wolf said, rolling his head around to ease the pain in his neck. "He's a LITTLE ticked at me because I didn't create a potion to cure him. The only reason I'm in the league, he says, is to brew a potion that will cure him. He was going to kill me because I didn't do that."

  
  


"He's got a sick mind," Hermione said, wrinkling her nose as she shut his desk drawer. "Let's just leave it at that."

  
  


"Let's get out of here," Ginger said as the undid one of the bonds that held Wolf's wrists. "It's freaky here."

  
  
  
  


"I can't leave yet," Wolf said. "There's something I have to do."

  
  


~~~

  
  


Jake the Snake slithered into the flooed fire and hissed his order. "Weeeerrrreeewoooolllfff Hhhhhaaaallll." To make his hiss heard, he had to say it long and slow. Jake hated his current position, the corny way his name rhymed, and he hated his master. But there was nothing he could about it. He landed, scowling with a snake look, and slithered to do his master's bidding.

  
  


~~~

  
  


Wolf lifted the beaker of foaming blue liquid. "This is my newest concoction. I've been working on this since I first got my office and its TOP SECRET. I call it the XXXIII."

  
  


"Triple X three?" Harry asked.

  
  


"Why do you have muggle science books here?" Hermione asked, picking up a book called _Genetics and You_. "You're studying genetics? Why bother?"

  
  


"Because it could be the thing that helps us all out. Especially for those people who want to become Animagni and the like! Only, that is by way of a charm, this is by way of a potion. Have you guys ever heard of Trevor Prince?"

  
  


"The Potions Master that appears often in _The Daily Prophet_?" Ginger asked, poking through the many potions catalogues that littered Wolf's expansive work space. 

  
  


"Yeah, him. He's my uncle. I've learned a lot about the potions and such from him since I became a werewolf," Wolf said, pulling on a pair of goggles and turning the blue-white lamp up to a visible level. Ron looked startled. Wolf had enchanted his lamp to look invisible, but give off light if he turned a special knob. "The reason I'm into genetics is because he suggested it. He's been working with the genetic coding in DNA."

  
  


"Adenine, Cytosine, Thymine, or Guanine?" Hermione asked, looking impressed.

  
  


"Guanine, I have discovered, is the base that the werewolf gene exists in. Muggles believe that the sequence of bases that makes the gene, but it isn't when it's a magical sort of problem. When the problem is of the magical variety, the gene exists in one base. However, it needs something to be activated. In this case, the residue from a werewolf needs to enter the bloodstream. Saliva, bits of the nail, or just a simple bit of hair. That activates the werewolf gene and magic sets off a chain reaction to completely change your structure."

  
  


"Change your structure?" Harry asked dubiously.

  
  


"Well, yes. That is a part of the magic. The complete structure changes are only aroused by the magic in the light of a full moon. But there are several things I've noticed in werewolves - accelerated hair growth, more sensitive sense of smell, etc."

  
  
  
  


"You're really into this werewolf stuff, aren't you?" Ginger asked, the look on her face blank, but her tone held admiration. "So what's that stuff for?"

  
  


"This 'stuff' is a potion that activates the structural change whenever you want. The only problem is that it doesn't stop the reaction to the moon. I've also worked it out so that its only a structural change, not a mind change, which is part of the Mom."

  
  


"Mom?" 

  
  


"Magic of the moon, sorry." Wolf sighed and removed the goggles. "I didn't want to test it yet but...it looks like I don't have a choice. I've replicated it and changed it to work on the Cytosine base, which is where the potential for changing into the animal most like you lies. Uncle Trevor sent me his notes on that a few months back, so I worked with them and came up with this." Wolf held up a beaker of green liquid. "Anybody want to give it a shot?"

  
  


"I will," Harry said, thought he didn't look to confident. Wolf poured a proper amount for somebody of his weight and handed the small cup to the boy who had been praised as a hero several times over. Harry stared at the liquid in the glass, raised it to his lips, tilted his head back, and downed it in one gulp. He made a sour face.

  
  


"Sorry, I haven't gotten the chance to work on the taste quite yet," Wolf said, taking the empty cup and refilling it. He drank half of the beaker of his own potion and winced at the bitterness of it. Hermione, Ron, and Ginger drank their share of it, all grimacing. "This stuff will start kicking in any second now."

  
  


Harry suddenly lurched foward, scratching his face. Everybody watched in horror as his mouth and nose started to elongate, stretching like silly putty from his face. His hair started to expand over his arms and chest and face and legs. He started to grow. Soon, there was a bear standing there.

  
  


*But I wanted to be a stag!* they heard him cry in their heads.

  
  


Wolf started to feel the telltale effects of turning into the wolf. His transformation took a less amount of time, but Ginger and Hermione and Ron were already halfway when his wolf senses kicked in. Ron was shrinking into a blue Phoenix, but Hermione was...a TIGER? 

  
  


Ginger, however, was the most surprising. A horn was growing out of her forehead and she was covered in white fur. Her hands and feet hardened and soon a unicorn was standing in front of Wolf. 

  
  


*Do you hear that?* Hermione asked, flexing her claws. She leaped agilely into the air, slicing out. *Impressive,* Wolf heard her remark.

  
  


*I smell something rotten,* Wolf remarked. *It's coming from that way!* Slick as a fox, he sprinted out the door and took off down the hallway. Hermione didn't have to struggle at all to keep up and Ginger surpassed them quickly. Ron kept at Hermione's heels. Harry had a bit harder time, but he loped along anyway. They sounded like an earthquake, tramping along the hallway, cool as you please. *In here! The conference room!*

  
  


Wolf managed to sneak in the massive door first, followed silently by Hermione and Ron. Hermione started at seeing a figure with a robe on and his back turned to them. He hadn't made any notice of them yet. *Harry, don't come in here!*

  
  


*Too late,* Harry muttered, already in the room. He glanced at what the others were gaping at, dropped quickly out of bear form, and disappeared among a number of boxes that were stacked five tall near the doorway. Everybody copied him and they had a clump behind the boxes. "How did Voldemort get into this mess?" Harry asked in a whisper.

  
  


"I don't know. I just know I'd been getting a vision, gotten kidnapped, and then BANG, we're here," Wolf muttered.

  
  


"There's Larry!" Ron, who was still watching the dark lord's movements, hissed. "What's he doing?"

  
  


Larry was facing the dark lord, wand raced. Voldemort turned and dropped his hood.

  
  


The group gasped. Ginger slapped her hands over her mouth to stop herself from puking. The dark lord's face was twisted and cruel, worse than any of Picasso's paintings. Wolf felt sick. 

  
  


"I shall kill you now, my brother," Larry whispered. 


	8. Default Chapter Title

"I will kill you now, my brother," Larry whispered loudly, a venom clinging to the edges of his deep voice. The look on his face was of pure hatred.

Ginger gasped loudly. Wolf, without thinking, slapped a hand over her mouth and made a quieting noise in the back of his throat. Ginger nodded to let Wolf know to let her go and leaned forward, a shocked expression on her face. "They're brothers?" she mouthed to Wolf. Wolf shrugged tightly.

"Wolf, I'm thinking we should get out of here before Voldemort kills Larry. I think he knows we're here," Harry whispered, grabbing Wolf's arm to get his attention. Ron nodded to let them know that he knew and Hermione started to crawl towards the door. Suddenly, she stopped and gasped.

"Wel, well, well," came a hideous voice from the door. Everybody whirled, but Voldemort or Larry didn't seem to notice. Larry began taunting Voldemort again. "A Potter, a Granger, a Weasely, a Prince, and a Bates … Hrm …. What should I do with you all now?"

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Harry hissed. He lunged at Malfoy, but missed slightly. Both boys went tumbling to the floor with loud clattering noises following them. Harry crawled quickly to the door, toting Malfoy behind him. "Voldemort's in there!"

"Ah, ah, ah, don't go anywhere, children!" a voice snapped. Ron cursed loudly as they discovered Voldemort facing them, cruel face twisted with a strange, sadistic glee. Wolf nearly puked and Ginger paled considerably. "Stand up. Get against the wall. I'll deal with you in a few minutes."

"I've defeated you before, Vold--" Harry began.

"Not at full power, you haven't. Get against the wall and I'll spare your life for a few moments while I deal with my brother," Voldemort snapped. 

Wolf stood up slowly, his knees shaking and hands quivering. "No," he said, the word meek. Voldemort heard, however.

Voldemort's face twisted suddenly. "What did you say?" he demanded, his voice quiet.

"I said NO!" Wolf shouted, suddenly furious. "I said no! I'm not gonna listen to you! I'm not gonna get against that wall! NO!" He whipped out his wand and aimed it directly at Voldemort. Years of frustration welled up inside of him and he shouted some words that Lupin had 

taught him. Voldemort laughed, his laughter loud and shrill. Wolf's hair stood on end.

"Foolish boy," he taunted. "Foolish, foolish boy."

"Forget the boy, Tom," Larry growled. "It's ME whose trying to kill you!"

"I'll deal with you in a moment, dear brother." Voldemort said simply, pointing his wand at the helpless Wolf. He shouted three words and the world around Wolf spun. Suddenly, he found himself flying back, slamming painfully into the wall, manacles tightening around his ankles and wrists and midsection. For the second time in an hour, he was chained to something. At least he could breathe.

"Wolf! Talk to me!" Ginger demanded when Wolf's head stopped swimming.

"I'm fine. Seriously. Ugh. Why am I always chained to something?" Wolf complained, looking at Ginger down by his feet. "A spell to get me out of this would be nice."

"Too advanced," Ron muttered sorrowfully.

Wolf's attention was drawn away from his situation to the heated conversation being exchanged by Larry and Voldemort.

"Thomas Riddle was NOBODY'S father!" Voldemort hissed.

"He was MY father!" Larry snapped. "Just because your mother was a --"

"What my mother was is nothing to you, Muggle!" Voldemort snapped. "She's dead! And that's that! Just because your father conceived me doesn't make me his son."

"Actually, it does," Hermione muttered from where she and Ginger were frantically working at a manacle on Wolf's left ankle. 

Malfoy looked terrified, something Wolf had never seen him look before. The pale skin was flushed with terror and he had trouble standing. He was leaning against the wall, struggling to breathe. "I've never been in a situation like this before," he whispered to himself.

"Malfoy! Shut up and help!" Ron snapped from where he was working on one of the manacles with his rusty knife. "If you know any cutting spells, it would certainly help get us out of here faster!"

"No way, man," Malfoy said, backing up against the wall as Larry's and Voldemort's conversation grew to a peak. 

"I've had enough of you, older brother," Larry hissed. "I'm going to kill you now."

Voldemort yawned. "I doubt you could and it would be very inconvenient for both of us. They don't give estates to murderers, after all…"

"I don't a care about some estate!" Larry screamed, his eyes bugging out with disbelief. (AN: there were several curses in that sentence, but I'll let you be creative and think up your own)

Suddenly, Wolf's left leg was free. He kicked out experimentally and Ginger ducked. "Sorry!" he whispered. Voldemort and Larry glared at each other for a full minute, while everybody else in the room shivered from fear. Draco wasn't much help. His blond hair was sweaty and he was still leaning against the wall, He kept rubbing at his face with his hands, shivering and panting in fear. He had not encountered anybody that evil before, even though his father had been one of Voldemort's henchmen. Neither had Wolf or Ginger, but they were both holding up amazingly. 

Suddenly, Larry shot a flurry of electric purply bolts at Voldemort, who was knocked full in the stomach. Voldemort's charm on Wolf's chains was broken and the tall thirteen-year-old tumbled to the floor, knocking Ron and Malfoy over. There was a scrambling to get onto feet and the group headed towards the door. Malfoy let out an expletive. "It's locked!" he cursed.

Wolf turned back to look at Voldemort while the group huddled around the door. Ginger was watching the heated exchange as well. Suddenly, Voldemort raised his wand. Wolf saw what was coming and knew about the Dark Lord's power. Instinctively, he pulled Ginger into a hug, hiding the sight from her eyes. He buried his eyes in the top of her head and tried to shut his ears as the initial train-blast-volume blast came. Then the sickening gurgle that was Larry dying.

"Is it over?" Ginger asked softly. 

Wolf, well aware at how close they were, opened one eye and saw that Larry was no more. He let Ginger go and backed up almost awkwardly. "It's over."

Ginger opened her mouth to say something, but an evil cackle behind her startled the group. Harry yelled loudly and Hermione screamed. Voldemort appeared behind Wolf, wand pointed at Hermione's shoulder and his hand gripping her neck. Harry and Ron were fighting to restrain themselves. Draco stood in the background, white as a sheet.

Wolf looked futilely around for something to help them out. He was briefly nauseated by the sight of a pile of ashes, what had been Larry, lying in a pile next to a wand. His futile search ended back a Voldemort, still threatening Hermione's life. Harry looked about ready to commit murder and Ron wasn't far behind. 

"Drop your wands or the girl dies. All of you, including the Malfoy boy," Voldemort's grip on Hermione's neck tightened. Hermione grew paler.

Ginger put her hand Wolf's shoulder to stop him from leaping at Voldemort and killing himself in the process. Wolf growled, frustrated. Voldemort spat in his face, laughing cruelly. Wolf wanted to scream with anger, frustration, rage, etc. Instead, he shuddered from the twisted, cruel face that had been shoved into his and shrugged Ginger's hand off of his shoulder.

"Voldemort, that might not be the wisest idea. I have a charm halfway said and I'm pointing my wand straight at your neck," a voice behind Voldemort said. Wolf recognized the voice, and Hermione, Harry, and Ron looked relieved. "Let the girl go. Now."

Voldemort glared at Wolf, to Harry, to Ron, to Ginger, and finally at Hermione before letting the lithe fifth-year go. He shoved her into Harry and the two hugged for a minute. Then Hermione gave Ron a quick hug before turning to glare angrily at Voldemort, her shoulders even with Harry's. "Now drop your wand," the voice continued. Voldemort set his wand down. "I've been wanting to kill you ever since you killed James and Lily, Voldemort. But, heh heh, that would just drop me down to your level. Against that wall right there, hear me?"

Remus Lupin, one of Wolf's bosses, appeared as Voldemort slowly walked to the wall. "Peter," he called to the stack of crates. "Come out and get against the wall with your master. Harry, make sure he doesn't get away as a rat."

Harry shifted to his bear form. Hermione slowly grew into a tiger. Ron finished it off with a blue phoenix. Between the three animals, there was no escaping for poor Peter Pettigrew, hidden in the crates. Wolf, Malfoy, and Ginger stood awkwardly the background whilst the four people dealt with the two men. Voldemort and Pettigrew were tied up and gagged. "Too easy," Wolf muttered.

Ginger screamed.

Every head glanced up as they saw Ginger, blood welling out of her arm, faint right into a surprised Wolf's arms. Wolf glanced up sharply and saw a glow-in-the-dark magical snake slithering away. "Snake bite!" he cried.

That instant of distraction was enough. Voldemort and Pettigrew Apparated out. Harry leapt futilely, falling onto his haunches in defeat. Lupin sighed wearily. "Sirius could have been free, too," Wolf heard him mutter. Wolf hefted Ginger's unconscious body and, running through the now-unlocked door and to the fireplace. There was a frantic scrambling for floo powder and then they were back at Hogwarts, coughing. 

Ginger, like all inanimate objects, grew heavier with each running step to the infirmary. The infirmary was on the third floor and he was on the fifth. After plunging head-first down two flights of stairs, trick stairs and all, he arrived on the third floor and raced on, panting and sweating. Worry clouded his mind. He didn't care how loud he was being -- if she didn't get that bite looked at in time, it could mean death. And Wolf didn't want the only girl that he truly liked injured, much less dead.

Madam Pomfrey opened the door after a moment of frantic knocking, a robe thrown over her nightgown and her hair in curlers. "What is it?" she asked crankily, gesturing for Wolf to enter. 

"Snake bite."

"I don't even want to know how she got it right now," Madam Pomfrey said, gesturing for Wolf to set Ginger down on the first bed. She prodded the snakebite, which had turned a nasty shade of green. "A terribly lethal one. Hrmm…" She paused a moment, prodding here and there. "You're lucky you got her here in time."

Wolf just nodded as Madam Pomfrey disappeared into the herb/medicine room and emerged with a large black bottle. "I'm going to need your help. Hold her mouth open." With shaking hands, he forced her mouth open and watched as Madam Pomfrey poured some of the liquid into her mouth. "Okay, let's sit her partially up, so she swallows it and doesn't choke on it."

Madam Pomfrey instructed him on what to do and set a timer beside Ginger's bed. "If she doesn't wake up by the time that timer goes off, come get me. You can stay on that bed over there. I'm sorry to leave you to do this, but I've gotta get some rest. There were some problems earlier and I need to sleep."

Wolf eventually fell asleep, but it was an uneasy night. He kept tossing and turning, worried. He woke up to somebody shaking him.

"Hey, Wolf. Who set this timer? It's about to set off."

"Ginger?" Wolf asked, shooting up and out of the hospital cot. He swept her into a powerful bear hug.

"What's the big deal? It's just a timer," Ginger said, surprised.

"No! That's not it! You nearly died!"

Ginger paled and she staggered. "I did what?" she asked in a soft voice. "I nearly died?"

"Snake bite."

"Yuck. I hate snakes," Ginger said, rubbing her arm where she'd been bitten. Wolf could see a scar there, but that was no big deal. 

"Ginger?"

"Hm?"

Wolf glanced around and then looked back at her, seriousness reflecting in his eyes. "Don't ever leave me. Promise?"

"I promise."

~~~~

"So THAT'S the story Dad never told me, Aunt Herm?" Cubbie asked, his eyes wide. He was thin, like his father, with the same green eyes, but his hair was a very distinct ginger color.

"Yes. The full story. Your mother should be here to get you any minute now."

"Boy, why don't they tell me any of these things?" Cubbie asked in a surprised tone as he scrambled to get his jacket. Robbie, James, Carrie, and Lizzie, the Potter Quadruplets hadn't stayed up for the whole story that their mother was telling Cubbie. They were all sleeping peacefully around the room atop their sleeping bags. Their father was out on a trip with Cubbie's father, Wolf. Cubbie's mother was coming to get him.

Hermione smiled. "There were many adventures after that, but that was the first. Look, there's your mum, Cubbie. Better hurry." The small eight-year-old scrambled to put his shoes on and ran out to the car, eager to tell his ginger-haired mother what he'd learned for the day. Mrs. Prince and Mrs. Potter exchanged grins for old time's sake and then The Princemobile, an old 2000 mustang, drove off into the cold English night.


End file.
